A SCARLETTI IN THE STUDY
by Agent M
Summary: When a professor is found dead at a prestigious Academy, the team are called in...but why doesn't Jane join them?  Stand alone story - sorry, no Red John, yet!   PLEASE REVIEW - BRUNO HELLER liked it, Hope you do!


Disclaimer : The characters are all Bruno Heller's, I just read

into their thoughts and behaviours and am inspired by them.

Author's note : A homage to the inspiration. This one's for

you, Bruno!

Thanks to : Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and, of course, the

Fabulous Baker man!

A SCARLETTI IN THE STUDY

**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY, Walnut Creek, CA - Wednesday night**.

Golden leaves littered the tree-lined driveway as it swept upwards towards a grandiose set of stone stairs. A gentle, but constant wind stirred the autumnal decorations into tiny whirlwinds. Several of the leaves plastered themselves onto the glowing windows of Brierley Hall Academy, as if desperate for an invitation out of the cool night air and into the warm safety of the library within.

An ambient glow flickered from the open fireplace. The last few students of academia fluttered past each other, their arms cradling weighty tomes, as they left for their rooms for yet another night filled with study.

In one corner, a surly looking boy stood out amongst the rows of reference books. He had obviously made great pains not to belong. Instead of the preppy style sweater and shirts worn by most of the other students there, he wore a t-shirt emblazoned with a serpent winding its way through the vacant eye sockets of a diamante encrusted skull. His low hanging jeans barely hid the waistband of his designer shorts. Justin Danvers chose his wardrobe intentionally to rile the old professors. It had become a bit of a sport for him; particularly with Professor Scarletti.

Danvers really despised the English Lit professor, for no other reason than he felt the old man was too judgemental. As soon as Scarletti had set eyes on Justin, that first day in class, he had come to the conclusion that Danvers was a layabout whose rich daddy had sent him to Brierley Hall simply because he could. Danvers had resented him ever since.

From his corner, he observed his adversary in his usual evening routine of selecting a heavy leather bound book from one of the shelves and then positioning himself in one of the wing-backed chairs by the open fire. A small tumbler of amber coloured liquid rested on a delicate, antique wooden table that sat to one side of the chair. The ice chinked softly as the florid-faced professor took a brief swig before replacing it on the table and settling back into his chair to read.

The last student, other than Justin, was a bookish-looking girl. She gathered her things up and scurried towards the door. As she reached Scarletti's chair, a couple of books slipped from her grasp and landed next to the rear chair leg. Justin watched as she struggled to balance her bag and other belongings in order to retrieve the fallen items. Eventually, she stood up and moved away from the small side table and Scarletti's chair. Timidly she wished the professor a good night. He replied in kind.

Justin grunted with scorn at the old man's ignorance. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched at all. Greater would be the surprise then.

Justin made his move. The surly teenager stepped away from the shadowy corner and moved towards the wingback chair. He pushed into it forcefully, causing the startled professor to drop his book. The ice clinked loudly in his drink as the chair knocked against the side table, causing the liquid to splash and the glass to rock precariously on the edge of the coaster.

"What the - ?" exclaimed Scarletti. He flung his arms up, like a true Italian, as he looked up. Justin stood, defiantly, in front of him, saying nothing. He gave an intimidating glare and snorted derisively. Then he gestured with his hand that he would be watching the Professor. He shot him another contemptible look, and then left.

Scarletti watched him go and exhaled a laugh at the teenager's attempt to be scary and intimidating. The boy would learn one day that his act was never going to work.

The older man's attention was, at once, drawn to the rich brunette, who had appeared at his side from her position at the checking-out desk, after witnessing the commotion. She was replacing his glass back onto the coaster and wiping one of her hands on her skirt. She appeared to have a cold, as she clamped a kleenex beneath her nose.

"Is everything alright, Gino?" she asked. Her eyes were warm and friendly, despite a slight redness. She seemed unduly worried as she stepped away from the table.

Gino looked at his aide tenderly and brushed off the incident. "Everything's fine, Julie," he responded. Despite his many years in the US, there was still a hint of Italy in his accent. Then with a nod of his head he added, "Teenagers, huh? They do not fear! He didn't like the grade I gave him, no? Ha!"

"Still…I think you should report him," suggested the woman.

The professor dismissed her with a wave. "What? Again? Nah…it's not worth it. He'll learn… one day." He shrugged with his hands and retrieved his book from his feet. 'Julie' scurried quickly back to her station and collected her bag. All of the students had now left for the night. She switched off the desk-lamp by which she had been working, glanced over towards the open fire, said goodnight and left. Settling down once more to read, Scarletti located the correct page in his book, and took a larger swig of his drink, enjoying the solitude.

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**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY, Walnut Creek, CA – Thursday morning**

CBI Agent Kimball Cho greeted his boss, Agent Teresa Lisbon, with the facts. "Gino Scarletti, 54. Found dead in a chair in the library at about 7.30 this morning by a Julie Halton-Travis - librarian." He nodded towards a distraught looking brunette being comforted by the equally upset bookish female student, who now had an expensive-looking camera hanging around her neck. The older woman's eyes were extremely red and puffy looking. Although the younger girl had an arm draped across the woman's shoulders, there was still a small gap between them. Lisbon glanced over in their direction as she, Rigsby and Van Pelt followed Cho up the stone stairs to the large gothic-style door that led into the Academy.

The obligatory group of onlookers had also begun to form. There were some members of staff but most of the gathering looked like prep students; although one stood out from the rest. His out-of-place casual attire yelled for attention.

"Any witnesses?" she enquired.

"None to speak of. Mrs Halton-Travis says the victim was still in the library when she left at approximately 9.25 - 9.30 pm last night," answered Cho. "Says there's no way to tell if anyone entered after that."

"Well, someone obviously did," stated Lisbon.

As they reached the imposing front entrance, she was just about to enquire about security cameras when they were greeted by two men; a tall man in black robes and a shorter man in a brown corduroy suit, the elbows of which were covered with tan leather patches. The smaller man seemed to be quite furtive about something. The taller man moved away from him dismissively and stepped towards the approaching agents. He spoke with a clipped British accent and outstretched his hand.

"Ah, Agent Lisbon! I'm Horace Gibbons, Dean of the Academy. The Attorney General speaks highly of your unit. He was a former student of ours, don't you know. Nice young chap as I recall." Lisbon wanted to roll her eyes, but daren't. The pompous older man continued, "I trust you will leave no stone unturned in your endeavours to find whoever committed this heinous affair."

Lisbon found herself shaking his hand, despite herself. She smiled weakly. Another favour for the AG's office. She was beginning to get the feeling that she was living in Cabot Cove – the man seemed to attract murder. Still, she kept her feelings to herself as she assured the Dean that they always put in 100% to every case they ever worked.

"Yes, well… that's as it should be." He nodded his head sharply. "If you'll excuse me, Agent Lisbon, I have to contact the agency to see about getting a replacement for Professor Scarletti." Lisbon nodded and he walked away, seemingly satisfied that all were doing as they should.

Pausing for a second, the dark haired agent glanced around and back the way they had come. "Where's Jane?" she asked.

Van Pelt raised her eyes. "On his way…" Her brow creased as she added, "I think… Well, that's what he said anyway…when I spoke to him…on …the ...phone." Her words trailed off as Lisbon, with a wave of her hand, dismissed the consultant's absence as inconsequential.

They stepped in to the library.

Rigsby whistled as he took in the grandeur of the room. There were wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor shelves of leather bound books in various hues of red, brown and green. A rolling ladder reached up to the highest rows. Grace looked up and smiled, "Nice, huh? You know I always wanted a library like this in my dream mansion," she said, longingly.

"Yeah, right….dream on!" Rigsby's snort was met by Grace's irritated frown. He turned and looked at the main focus of the crime scene. A lifeless arm dangled over the side of a green winged armchair; a glass rested, upturned, on the floor and the fireplace embers were still glowing. He snorted again.

"Oh, very Cluedo….Hey Boss? You want me to put out a BOLO for Colonel Mustard and Miss Scarlet?" he joked.

Van Pelt hit him gently across the chest with the back of her hand. "Hey! Stop joking around….Someone died here."

"Yes, they did," interjected Lisbon, sternly. She'd just finished talking with the only other female in the room. "At first glance, the Coroner says it looked like natural causes -"

"_Looked_…?" queried Rigsby.

Lisbon continued, "As I was _saying_…" The words _'before I was rudely interrupted'_ remained unspoken but Rigsby's hangdog expression said they had been received. "The coroner _thought_ it was natural causes, but then they found this…" She held up a small plastic evidence bag containing the remnants of a plastic capsule and a tiny amount of red granular residue, "…under the armchair." She gestured with the bag.

"Guess we won't be needing this then," said Cho, holding up a candlestick. Rigsby tried hard to stifle a laugh by biting his lips together. Lisbon shot them both an irritated look.

"We need to find out everything we can about the victim. Van Pelt, I need you to come back to the CBI with me and start digging through his background." Grace nodded. "You two [?] stay here and start interviewing staff and students. Find out if anyone had a grudge, or if anyone saw anything out of the usual."

"Ok, boss," replied Cho.

"And _where_ _the hell_ is Jane?" asked Lisbon, again, this time with a degree of fractiousness. She pounded out of the building without waiting for a response.

Cho shrugged anyway. He looked down at the candlestick in his hand and back up at Rigsby, who was still smirking.

"What?"

Rigsby just shook his head.

Patrick Jane _had_ arrived at Brierley Hall Academy shortly after Lisbon, Rigsby and Van Pelt, who had briefed him over the phone. He just didn't stay very long. From his position, parked behind one of the many police cars, he observed two distressed women and a small group of onlookers that had gathered. He watched as the Dean, and another cautious-looking man, greeted his colleagues, and then as they all disappeared inside the building. He waited for several minutes as the wheels of cogitation proceeded to whir, then smiled enigmatically, started up his engine, and left.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA, Thursday lunchtime**

Lisbon was just coming away from the kitchen area with a cup in her hand when she nearly collided with Jane.

"Ah, tea – that's a good idea!" he announced, walking past her.

Lisbon froze in a frown, turned and followed him. "Uh…where have _you_ been?" she asked. There was stern tone in her voice, like a parent confronting a child who had stayed out past curfew.

Jane pretended not to have heard straight away. He continued to close the cupboard door, after putting a teabag into his cup and saucer, before acknowledging her question. "Hmm?"

Lisbon took an impatient breath. "You weren't at the crime scene." It sounded like an accusation.

Promptly, Jane turned and dramatically replied, "I most definitely _was_!" His eyes glided sideways as he added, "… _briefly_."

Lisbon had already begun to respond and therefore missed the end of his reply. "Yeah? So how come I didn't see you there? Oh wait…." Her tone became sardonic, "You were wearing your cloak of invisibility, right?"

Jane's expression told her she was being childish. "No! ...As I said…I _was_ there…_briefly_." Lisbon's face demanded more. Jane's eyes drifted to one side as he tried to justify his absence. He shrugged a shoulder. "Had some stuff to take care of."

This aroused the brunette's suspicions. "What kind of stuff?" She didn't like it when Jane went off and did things by himself – it usually meant trouble for her.

He rolled his eyes, in a gesture of petulant teenagers the world over. "Just _stuff_." He sensed her suspicion and added, "Don't worry! I didn't break any laws or anything!" And with that he picked up his cup and saucer and moved to manoeuvre past her, into the bull pen. "Ex_cuuse_ me," he said, flippantly. Lisbon remained where she stood, her frown frozen upon her brow. Jane noticed her expression with a surreptitious glance as he sidled past her. A brief smile played on his mouth as he headed towards his couch.

Lisbon took in a breath to speak as she turned slightly; but thinking better of it she just gave a glaring pout in Jane's direction and flounced off to her office.

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Rigsby slouched at his desk looking over his notepad. He was making a list of names of potential persons of interest when Lisbon wandered in.

"Get anywhere at the Academy?" she queried.

"Possibly," he replied. He glanced at his pad and then sat up straighter in his seat as he began his report. "Got a few possible names. Main one is a Justin Danvers. By all accounts he and Scarletti didn't get along. And according to Student Records, Scarletti wrote Danvers up on a couple of occasions for disrespectable conduct."

"Yeah…" added Cho, "Julie Halton-Travis – the librarian who found him – also says that there was an altercation between Scarletti and Danvers just before she left last night. Danvers pushed into his chair and made threatening gestures towards him. Said it's happened a few times."

"Sounds interesting… Cho, bring him in to help us with our inquiries. Just a few questions. Nothing too heavy….yet," stated the diminutive boss.

"Ok." He stood up and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

"He won't tell you anything," interjected Jane in a sing-song voice, from his position on the couch. He had the case file in his hand, which he had been studying since his return.

Lisbon turned to him, "Oh? And why's that?"

Jane shrugged slightly, "Uhhh…because he doesn't _know_ anything?"

Lisbon's heckles began to rise at the patronising tone in his voice. "Oh really? And you know that _how_?"

Jane cleared his throat and moved forward so that he was now perched on the edge of the couch, turned towards them. "Did forensics get back to you on the capsule that was found?" he asked, slightly changing the direction of the conversation.

Lisbon's brow creased, "Wha – "

Rigsby answered the query, "Er, yeah. Guy I know put a rush on it. He said it was a form of potassium cyanide."

Jane nodded thoughtfully, as if having something confirmed. "Mmm…interesting."

The crease on Lisbon's brow hadn't gone away. She was getting very irritated now. "Interesting? What the -?" She was incredulous. "Why is that interesting? And how can you know that Danvers doesn't know anything?"

Jane rolled his eyes in a slightly condescending fashion. It was perfectly obvious to him. "It's _interesting_ because it proves it _wasn't_ Danvers…._hence_ the reason he doesn't _know_ anything." He pushed himself fully back into the seat of the soft couch.

"You don't know that! You can't possibly know that! You're just guessing!" Lisbon was exasperated at the audacity of his claim.

Jane raised an eyebrow and sighed. His head shook slightly as he raised his hands in a _'fine, don't believe me'_ gesture.

Van Pelt broke the moment. "Boss?" Lisbon tore her glare away from Jane, who was still shaking his head slightly; and looked at the red-haired agent. "I was doing a bit of digging on Justin Danvers' background, when I discovered that his father is Jonathan Danvers – of Danvers' Foundry [?] One of the largest in the US. Danvers Snr is quite the wealthy and powerful man."

The boss waited for the punchline. At this moment in time she didn't see where this was going, but the young agent seemed excited about something so she waited for her to finish. "I did some checking. Apparently _potassium ferrocyanide_ is used in metal works…it's used as a finish on sculptures and statues and things…Justin Danvers _could_ have got some of the poison from there."

Lisbon smiled. "Nice work, Grace." She turned to Cho, who had delayed his departure when Jane had butted in. With her eyes, and a sharp nod of her head, she signalled for him to proceed. Cho headed for the doorway.

"Still not him!" exclaimed Jane. He shouted after Cho, "You're wasting your time!"

"You? Hush!" scolded Lisbon, pointing a finger at him. Jane rolled his eyes again, picked up the case file and began once more to peruse its contents.

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From the observation room, Lisbon was more and more convinced that they _weren't _wasting their time with Justin Danvers. The teenager had aggression written all over his face, and he was telling them plenty. She looked at Jane, who had an annoying little smirk on his face.

"See?" she stated, "The boy's contempt for the victim is obvious."

Jane shrugged his mouth and nodded, agreeing with her. "Yes, it is."

Lisbon was just about to argue her case when she realised he had actually agreed with her. A puzzled frown formed just above her nose. She wasn't buying it. "But you still think he's innocent, right?"

"He is," Jane stated simply.

"He's admitted to threatening Scarletti and pushing into his chair…_and_ previous incidents of intimidating behaviour towards him….He had access to the poison _and_ we have witnesses who can verify his hatred towards the man," argued Lisbon.

"Yes, we do. That's just the point," explained Jane.

Lisbon was confused. She had just given him several indicators of the boy's guilt, and he _seemed_ to be in agreement, but she wasn't convinced. "I'm sensing a big 'but' here..."

Jane stood up straight, away from the wall that he had been leaning against whilst watching the interview through the one-way glass. As he did so, Lisbon noticed him glance slightly towards her left hip, as if weighing something up behind her. There was a playful smirk in his eyes. She gave him a warning glare.

"Danvers has _obviously_ got a grudge against the victim and everyone knows it," he began to explain. Lisbon frowned; her eyes told him she was listening and that he should continue, so he did. "_That's the point_. His contempt is _obvious_." He could see she still wasn't getting it, so he elaborated on his theory. "The victim was found in a chair reading a book, yes? He was _poisoned_. The _mere act_ suggests that the killer didn't want to draw undue attention to themselves, or to the body. Scarletti was found in a position that was totally normal, in a situation that wasn't unusual, so nobody would suspect a thing. _And_ according to staff and student statements, Scarletti was in the library at that time _every _night, following the _same_ routine." He looked more closely at the agent in front of him. He could see things were starting to make more sense to her; she was nodding slightly. "So…." He trailed off to see if she would pick up the pieces. She did.

"So…Danvers wouldn't have drawn attention to himself in the library that night if he intended to _kill_ Scarletti." It was beginning to dawn on the brunette's face.

Jane pointed the index fingers of both hands at Lisbon and smiled at her. His expression was slightly condescending in that it suggested she had arrived late at the party, but was congratulating her on turning up at all. Lisbon wasn't completely unaware of his insinuation. Reluctantly, she conceded the point. She left the room, only to reappear in the interview room next door.

"That will be all for now, Justin. Thank you for your cooperation. We'll be in touch if we need anything else," she said.

Justin was a little confused. Judging by the questions he had been asked and the admissions he had made, without waiting for his father's lawyer, he felt sure they would be keeping him in custody for a while. "I can go?" he asked.

Lisbon nodded and gestured to the door with her eyes. "You can go." Justin got up and left the room.

Cho looked up at Lisbon. _He_ was confused. Lisbon read his thoughts. "It's not him," she said simply; her petulant gaze lifted to the mirror, behind which Jane smiled broadly. He watched as she turned and left the interview room, with Cho following behind her; then he made sure to wait just long enough for Danvers to leave the Unit before heading back to the bullpen.

Lisbon was barking orders at the team to go through the list of names again and to re-interview everyone on it. They'd just lost their number one suspect and she needed a new one, and fast.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jane return to his couch. It was only when he spoke a few minutes later that she even acknowledged his presence.

"I've been thinking," he said.

"Good for you,"came her blasé response. She was still irritated at him for being right.

"Be good to have someone on the _inside _of the Academy, instead of pulling all the suspects in and spooking them," he suggested. Lisbon hated the fact that it was actually not a bad idea, but she wasn't going to let him know that. Instead she decided to pour scorn upon it.

"Yeah? To do what?" she asked, trying to goad him.

Jane ignored her obvious attempt at derision. "To catch the culprit, of course. Make them feel like they've got away with it and let them feel comfortable."

Lisbon snorted. "You want to make the killer feel comfortable?" she sneered.

"Yes," answered Jane. "That way they will _do something_, or _say something_ to trip themselves up, and then _all we have to do_ is be there to arrest them." It was simple.

"Arrest them? We haven't even _got_ a suspect yet! You've just seen to that, remember?" Lisbon was letting her irritation get the better of her.

"Meh, details…" Jane sensed her verbal assault before it got going. His best defence was a form of attack. "You're just mad because you didn't think of it first," he said, aggravating an already aggravated Lisbon.

The rest of the team looked on in silent uncertainty as the boss, who had somehow managed to stop her blood from pumping so furiously in her ears, took a deep breath and probed further into Jane's 'wonderful' idea.

"Okay…So this person on the inside? Any suggestions as to who it should be?" she demanded. She had a sneaky feeling she already knew what his egotistical answer would be.

Jane smiled and shrugged as if it was obvious. Lisbon's eyes derided him. "You want me to put _you _in…" She didn't get to finish because Rigsby interrupted her. He had just taken a call.

"Uh, Boss? That was Hightower. She wants to see you in her office asap," he announced.

"Did she say why?" snapped the brunette, further irritated by the interruption and more than a little uneasy at the thought of being summoned to the boss' office.

"Nope," answered Rigsby. "Didn't sound happy, though," he added.

Lisbon sighed heavily. '_Great, just great_' she muttered. She looked at Jane, who gave one of his _'I'm innocent but not-so-innocent'_ shrugs before folding his arms. Her eyes narrowed and she stomped off to find out what trouble he had gotten her into now.

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Madeline Hightower was just replacing the handset of her phone when Lisbon appeared in the doorway.

"You wanted to see me?" said the agent, edgily.

"Agent Lisbon, yes. Come in," greeted the decisive woman behind the desk. "Two things."

"_Only two?_" muttered Lisbon under her breath, mentally chastising Jane for landing her here, even though she had no clue what he had done.

"I beg your pardon?" asked the stern-faced boss.

"Uh, what can I do, for you?" recovered Lisbon quickly.

Hightower looked at her closely for a second before beginning. "I've had a very irate Jonathan Danvers on the phone. He claims you've been harassing his son."

Lisbon's face conveyed her disbelief. "We weren't _harassing_ him. We simply brought him in to answer a few questions about some things that went on between him and the victim in the Brierley Hall case, that's all."

"Good that that's what I told him then," said the Unit boss. "You should make every effort to release him soon." It came across as an order.

Lisbon replied, "We already did….about 20 minutes ago."

"Okay," responded Hightower, accepting the explanation. She paused for a moment. "How's it going?"

Lisbon's eyebrows asked for clarification of the question. "Ma'am?"

"The case," answered the higher-ranked agent.

As confidently as she could, Lisbon replied, "Oh…er…we're looking into a few names, interviewing a number of people... Got a few persons of interest."

"But no suspects, yet?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Lisbon looked at the ground, "No, Ma'am."

Hightower inhaled deeply. "Be good to get someone on the _inside_, don't you think?" She held her head slightly to one side as she looked firmly at the agent in front of her, her eyebrows raised. Again, it didn't sound like a question.

Lisbon's brow creased. Her eyes drifted slightly in the direction of the door, as if Jane might be standing there gloating. Before she could answer, Hightower continued.

"But you'd already decided that, hadn't you?" The woman smiled approvingly. "I agree. It's a good idea, and I think you have excelled yourself in allowing Jane to go in undercover; be good to get him away from Red John for a while… The call from the supply agency was a nice touch. Very authentic."

Lisbon was baffled by what she was hearing. "The supply agency?" she repeated, trying to sound like she knew what her boss was talking about.

"Yes. They rang to confirm the reference for Jane as a Professor of English Literature an hour ago. Don't worry, I played along. Told them he was _the perfect man_ for the job." She smiled at the brunette.

Despite her uncertainty at what had just happened, Lisbon gave a tight smile and went along with it. Hightower seemed to be praising her, not firing her. She quickly asked if there was anything else and was duly dismissed to go back to her duties.

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**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY , Walnut Creek, CA - late Thursday afternoon**

The Dean's office was overly furnished with antique-style furniture. He sat behind a large mahogany desk, leaning comfortably back into his leather executive chair. He held his hands before him. They were touching at the fingertips like the steeple of a church. He was listening to the frantic words of his colleague, Professor Alleyn.

"They'll find out now, for sure!" exclaimed Alleyn. He was pacing in front of the Dean's desk and wringing his hands together.

"Relax old chap. They won't discover a thing. I've made sure of that," Gibbons reassured. His eyes drifted unconsciously to the top drawer of his desk as he said it. But the other man wasn't convinced. He pulled at the cuffs of his brown corduroy jacket as if somehow it would provide comfort. It didn't. He looked at the older man's smug expression. How could he be so calm about the whole thing?

Alleyn stopped pacing and slammed his hand down onto the mahogany desk. "Dammit, Horace! We're both in this up to our eyeballs! How can you sit there and say they'll find nothing? You know as well as I do that we were both there that night. The CBI agents are supposed to be the best in the state. Of course they'll find out about it."

Dean Gibbons inhaled deeply and looked steadfastly at his companion. "For God's sake, man. Get a grip of yourself! You're making yourself _look_ suspicious. I've taken care of everything, so stop panicking….Now if you don't mind, I have paperwork to fill out. The agency is sending someone to replace Scarletti this evening." And with that, he picked up a pen and nodded his eyes in the direction of the door.

Alleyn was quite taken aback by his superior's forthright manner. He exhaled heavily and stormed from the room, almost bumping into Jane whose hand was hovering where the door handle had been moments earlier.

"Oops! Pardon me," said the consultant, sidestepping out of the man's way. He held out a hand to introduce himself but the Professor was in too much of a hurry to stop. At the sound of an unknown voice, the Dean looked up towards the doorway.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

Jane walked into the room with his right hand outstretched. In his left he carried a battered brown attaché case. "Patrick Jane. I believe you're expecting me." He smiled broadly.

"Ah, yes, of course," realised the Dean. "Come in my dear fellow, and welcome to Brierley Hall." He returned the outstretched hand gesture. Then, remembering the exchange as Alleyn left, quickly added, "You'll have to forgive Henry…" Jane frowned. Gibbons gestured towards the door as a reminder. Jane inhaled an '_ah_' and nodded understandingly. "He has a lot on his mind at the moment. This wretched business has upset us all."

Jane looked at him closely, and nodded slightly.

"I trust the agency filled you in on why we have need of you?" inquired the Dean.

"Oh, yes," Jane answered, then with an understanding frown, quietly muttered, "Wretched business."

The Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I do apologise, you've caught me quite unawares. I was expecting you later this evening. Please, come with me." Gibbons gestured with his arm that they should head for the door.

After a lengthy tour around the Academy halls and study rooms, a lecture about the history of the place, and a few brief introductions to some other members of staff, Jane was shown to his quarters, as-it-were.

"This was also Professor Scarletti's domain. I'm afraid we don't have any other spare rooms," apologised the older man.

Jane took in his surroundings in one look. "That's quite alright. I don't need much space." He looked over at a single bed pressed against one wall. The blankets were pulled tightly in military fashion. Beneath the window on the adjacent wall was a writing bureau that had papers strewn across it. Next to this, on the floor, was a cardboard carton containing some of the late Professor's personal effects, haphazardly thrown in to it. "Messy fellow, was he?" he asked. His pattern of speech had begun to emulate that of the Dean, deliberately so. He nodded towards the bureau.

"Hmm? Oh no, not at all. He was a highly organised individual, extremely fastidious; made copious notes about everything. One of our best." Gibbons paused and took a breath before sheepishly adding, "No, I'm afraid all this is of _my _doing. I was gathering his belongings ready for your arrival and was interrupted…I'll get someone along promptly to collect his things and get them out of your way."

"No need," smiled Jane, waving a hand. "As I said, I don't need much space." He placed his attaché case down at his feet and held out a hand. "Thank you, Dean Gibbons. I'll let you know if I need anything else."

The Dean was momentarily flustered. "Oh…uh, yes, quite." He shook Jane's hand and, as he was leaving, looked back over his shoulder. "Oh yes, I almost forgot…Your first study session will be first thing in the morning, after Briefing, where I shall introduce you to some of the other staff. It will take place in Study Room 9…er…I believe Professor Scarletti had just started, somewhat ironically now it seems, looking at Crime and Literature of the 19th Century." Jane smiled his thanks and closed the door on the scholarly man.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA**

"Got anything yet?" asked Lisbon. She was hovering at Cho's shoulder as he sat in front of a flat screen monitor. He tapped on the keyboard.

"We're up," he announced. Lisbon leaned forward to look at the image on the monitor. She squinted a little, and then jerked her head backwards as Jane's face suddenly filled the screen.

"Can you guys hear me?" he was saying, as his eyes wandered in a grid like pattern around the edges of the screen. He was in fact examining the outside edge of the open attaché case, trying to locate the tiny hidden camera. He reached out and tapped the top of the case. There was a loud thud in Lisbon's earpiece.

"We can hear and see you," she said, then added, "unfortunately." She had still not yet forgiven him for being so deceptive in bringing about this plan, and especially for the obviously fake look of surprise he'd had on his face when she'd repeated Hightower's words. "Have you seen anything of interest?" she inquired.

"Oh yes," answered Jane, hearing her loud and clear through his own ear piece. "You guys have seen the library, right? Whoo! Beautiful….and the Mess Hall has got the most _exquisite_ - "

Lisbon cut him off testily, "_Related_ _to_ _the case_?" She mentally chided herself for having asked such an ambiguous question in the first place.

"Oh, uh, yes, _the case_…" He thought for a moment, then shook his head and quickly stated, "Errr, no." He qualified it with a small one-shouldered shrug. "Early days."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, exhaled heavily and pouted. This was going to be a nightmare, a mistake, and quite possibly, if it had anything to do with Jane, the end of her career. She wanted to get this one over and done with, as quickly as possible. Jane sensed her annoyance.

"Lisbon, Lisbon…habeo patientia mulier!"

"_What?"_ she asked irritably.

"It's Latin," said Cho, monotonously, "for 'have patience'." He deliberately left out the word 'woman' which Jane had added at the end. The rest of the team looked at him disbelievingly. From the screen, Jane smiled with surprised respect.

"Very good, Agent Cho," he praised. "The Avon Park Playboys were a cultured bunch, then?"

Before Cho could respond Lisbon blurted out, "Uh, whatever!" Then she squinted at the screen again; this time looking past Jane. "Where are you, anyway?" she asked.

Jane looked around him. "Oh, I'm in Scarletti's private quarters. They don't have any spare rooms. The man wasn't too big on interior design…Still, it's comfortable enough."

Lisbon wasn't concerned with his comfort. "Well, is there anything in there that could lead us to his killer?"

Jane looked around again. He took in the rifled desk and the contents of the cardboard container, which he had gone through after shutting the door on the Dean. His gaze fell briefly onto a row of small red covered books in the box. He shrugged and gave a wavy hand gesture. "Maybe…" he said mysteriously.

Lisbon rolled her eyes and huffed at his reticent attitude. Sometimes she wanted to reach out and just punch him on the nose; unconsciously her fingers had already begun to form a fist. Briefly, she lowered her eyelids. They felt heavy. Opening them again, she looked at her watch. She was just about to speak when there was knock at Jane's door. The four agents watched and waited as he got up. They could hear a muffled conversation and then the door closed and Jane reappeared.

"Who was that?" asked Lisbon.

"That was the porter to collect Scarletti's belongings. The Dean said he would be sending someone," he reported.

The brunette was a little perturbed, "But there could be evidence in there!"

"Calm yourself, woman! I've already been through it," reassured Jane, albeit in his own belittling way.

Rigsby and Van Pelt glanced at each other anxiously. Sensibly, they chose not to say anything for fear that they, too, would be in danger of the death glare the boss was, at that moment, directing at Jane. Despite not being able to see the team, or Lisbon, Jane's sixth sense was picking up on the silence in his earpiece.

He pretended to shiver. "Oooh…It's getting a little chilly in here…Old buildings….Think I'll go and warm up in the library," he said.

"Yeah, you do that!" came Lisbon's clenched reply. The screen went black as Jane closed the case.

Cho turned slightly from his sitting position. One arm leant on the table as he twisted his torso to face Lisbon. "You think he'll be okay in there?" he asked.

Lisbon screwed up a frown on her face, "He's a big boy…he'll cope..." She looked at Van Pelt's expression of concern. "Besides, whoever killed Scarletti targeted him specifically. Jane's not in any danger."

Under his breath, Rigsby muttered, "Except maybe from you, that is." Lisbon's glare found him quickly. He looked to the ground. She then ordered them to continue digging into the backgrounds of all those on the list, before she pounded back to her office.

The team looked at each other, then parted ways and got to work.

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**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY LIBRARY, 7.30 pm**

Jane had strolled nonchalantly through the draughty corridors, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Now and again, he stopped to look at something a little more closely; trophies and photographs in display cabinets, or plaques on the wall which detailed some historical aspect to the building. Soon enough he found himself outside the arched doorway that led into the library. He paused, facing the door, and glanced upwards to his left. Once more he noted the security camera that was affixed to the vaulted archway of the corridor which led off to other parts of the Academy. He'd observed it, along with several others, earlier on his tour with the Dean, but had not broached the subject.

With a sigh, he returned his attention to the library entrance and stepped through into the grandeur of the room. His eyes were drawn to the endless rows of beautifully bound books. He allowed his gaze to trail around the entire library, absorbing the minutiae of its layout and contents. Finally, his gape alighted on the winged back chairs in front of the fireplace, where flames were hissing and spitting as they devoured the logs within. On the small table at the side of the chair where the victim had been found were several candles of different sizes – tributes from students and staff alike. All were lit. There was also a small notice advising interested parties that there would be a memorial for Professor Scarletti in the library on Saturday morning.

"Can I help you Professor Jane?"

Jane turned to see a woman he had been introduced to earlier that day. She was the same woman he had seen being comforted outside the previous morning. She looked marginally better now, though her eyes were still tinged with sadness.

"Ah, Mrs _Halton-Travis_, isn't it?" Jane feigned his uncertainty.

The woman nodded meekly, and pulled her lips closed in a brief smile. She seemed sorrowful, but at the same time eager to help.

Jane observed her closely. He took in the loose fitting blouse and the pencil skirt. She had a slightly tanned complexion, though he noted a faint tan line on the third finger of her left hand, where a ring had recently been removed. He smiled warmly. "I was looking for the Literature section," he said.

Julie smiled understandingly, "Of course!" She said, "Gino… sorry, _Professor Scarletti_ was always requesting books from this section." She took a step forwards. "Please, I'll show you the way." Jane took a step to one side and gestured with his arm to let her go past. He followed close behind her as she made her way to the far corner.

"Did you know the Professor well?" he questioned, casually.

Julie seemed to stiffen at the question, though it was almost undetectable. "No more than anyone else," she stated. Jane nodded with his eyebrows; an action echoed more slowly by his head. "He used to read in the library at night, when all the students had left," she continued. "He seemed quite…" Her voice trailed off.

Jane cocked an ear. "Quite…?"

The woman looked around conspiratorially. In hushed tones she said, "He seemed quite lonely. You know, in need of a woman's company." She gave a sardonic laugh, "Sad really, when you think of all the female students who had the eye for him…and a few staff too!"

Jane smiled with a quiet understanding, "Ah ha."

"Ah, here we are." She swept her arm in an upwards motion as she gestured towards several shelves in front of them. "You'll find plenty to keep you occupied here. If you need anything else, I'm at the desk near the door." She gestured back to where they had come from.

Jane smiled and thanked her. He watched her for a second and then began perusing the shelves until he found the two books he had been looking for. He pulled each one down from the shelf and made his way over to the winged back chairs. He looked at the green one next to the candles. Fully aware that he was being observed, he took a deliberate step across to the brown one on the other side of the fireplace. There he sat down and began to read.

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**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA – Friday morning – 6.45 am**

"Eureka!" announced Van Pelt as she tapped triumphantly on the print button. Lisbon wandered over to the redhead's desk.

"What you got?" she asked, expectantly.

"I was running the names of all the people on the list of staff and students to check for any prior convictions. And this popped up." She held up the freshly printed sheet. Lisbon took the sheet from her and read. A small smile appeared on her mouth.

"Seems the good Science professor has a penchant for misusing chemicals….Nice work, Grace."

The young agent beamed modestly. "Thanks."

Lisbon looked up to see where her most senior agent was. She saw he was already at his desk, just about to pick up the handset of his phone. "Cho. Come with me."

"To?" he asked, grabbing his jacket.

"Brierley Hall. We need to talk to a Professor Alleyn again."

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**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY , Walnut Creek, CA - Friday 8.30 am**

Jane was sitting in the Dean's office when Lisbon and Cho arrived. Dean Gibbons introduced them.

"Agents Lisbon and Cho, this is Professor Patrick Jane, who as you know, has only recently joined us. He'll be taking over Professor Scarletti's classes," said Gibbons.

Lisbon nodded in acknowledgement, "Ah, good luck with that."

Jane smiled. "Luck doesn't come into it, Agent… _Lisbon_, was it? It's a matter of knowing …"

Lisbon cut him off. She didn't have time for his shenanigans. She knew he was only trying to wind her up, and if she was honest with herself, he was succeeding. "Er…sorry… Professor… _Jane_, was it? I'm afraid we have an investigation to get on with here, so if you don't mind?" She gestured towards the door with her eyes.

Jane looked at her for a lengthy few seconds, and then at the Dean, who was looking at him expectantly. "Oh, yes, of course," he said, rising from his chair. He looked back at Lisbon. "Good luck with that," he said. It sounded almost like a challenge.

As he closed the door behind him, he overheard Lisbon telling the Dean that they wanted to speak with Professor Alleyn. He meandered along the corridor for a few minutes pretending to be lost, and was still there when Alleyn made his way to the office, having been summoned. The Professor had a hesitancy in his step and was wringing his hands. The deep furrow that was etched across his brow bore the weight of whatever was on his mind. Jane watched as the edgy man disappeared into the office. Then he moved to an area hidden from view and pulled out his cell phone.

Lisbon had barely had chance to ask any questions when her phone rang. She looked at the display and gestured to Cho that he should begin without her. Then she stepped over to the far side of the room, so that no-one would overhear.

"What?" she hissed in hushed tones.

"That's not very nice, Lisbon. I'm out here solving your case, putting myself in danger and _that's_ how you speak to me?" Jane sounded offended, even hurt.

"You're _not _in any danger," she countered, irritably. "What do you want? I'm in the middle of something, right now."

"Yes. Interviewing Professor Alleyn, I believe. What do you want with him?"

Glancing over at the others, Lisbon explained about the fact that Alleyn had a prior conviction for misusing chemicals.

"Interesting…What did he do?" inquired Jane.

"He allowed several students at his previous place of work to make an explosive device using cordite."

Jane nodded. "Cordite? When was this?"

Lisbon flipped open the file in her hand. "July 2008."

"Yes, I expected it would be," declared Jane.

Lisbon's frown was deep. "What's that supposed to mean?" She had a sinking feeling.

"Oh nothing."

Lisbon shrugged off his attempt to create doubt. "Anyway. As a scientist, the Professor would easily have had access to the poison. He looks good for it at the moment. "

"Yes, I suppose he does. He's _clearly_ hiding _something_…" Before Lisbon could ask him to elaborate, he said, "Have you asked the Dean about the security cameras yet?"

"The Dean? No, why? It was already confirmed by several members of staff that the cameras have been down for several days." The small dark-haired woman waited for him to explain, but he didn't. "Jane?..._Jane_?" He had hung up on her. She tutted as she pocketed her phone and rejoined the interview.

"Dean Gibbons?" she asked, "Can you confirm for us that the security system wasn't working the night Professor Scarletti was murdered?"

His reply seemed to take them all by surprise, especially Professor Alleyn, who looked as though he was about to pass out.

"Er, no. That is incorrect, Agent. The cameras were in full working order," answered the Dean.

Lisbon was puzzled. She glanced at Cho, then back at the Dean. "So why are several of your staff members under the impression that the system was down?"

"Ah, that's probably my fault. I'd announced earlier in the week that there was a problem with some of the cameras, and there was. But I fear I neglected to let them know that the matter had been resolved.

"We're going to need to look at those tapes," stated Cho matter-of-factly.

"Yes, of course. Right away." Gibbons walked over to his desk and made a phone call. "They'll be with you forthwith."

"Thank you," said Lisbon. She looked at Alleyn, who had gone a pale shade of grey. "Are you okay, Professor Alleyn?"

Henry pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow and upper lip. "Yes, I'm fine," he managed to utter.

Lisbon looked at him closely. The man was a wreck. Obviously the guilt of what he had done was getting to him. She decided that they would take him back with them and keep him in for further questioning. Even as she said it, the professor looked petrified, and the Dean looked more than a little perturbed. Before anyone could speak, there was a knock at the door as a member of the maintenance staff arrived with the surveillance tapes. Cho took them and they headed out towards the suburban.

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**CBI HQ Sacramento, CA**

"Boss? You need to see this," said Van Pelt, staring at the monitor in front of her.

Lisbon got up from her seat at the table nearby and stood behind the younger agent, looking over her shoulder. Grace hit a key on her keyboard which caused the images on it to run slightly faster than normal. "These are the tapes from the Academy's surveillance cameras," she explained. "There's a lot of activity going in and out of the library on the afternoon and early evening of Scarletti's murder…but nothing that looks suspicious…" Lisbon began to sigh but stopped as Grace added, "..Until…" She tapped a key and the video footage ran in real time. There on the screen, as large as life, was Professor Henry Alleyn entering the library just after the librarian, Julie Halton-Travis, left. He was in there for only a couple of minutes before seeming to rush back out looking extremely flustered. Lisbon watched as he stopped outside the library door. He looked both ways down the corridor, as if on the lookout for something, or someone. Then he ran the palm of one hand across his mouth, holding it there for a second or two. He then turned and looked at the library door again before rushing off down the corridor in the direction of the Dean's office.

Just as Van Pelt hit pause, Rigsby entered the bullpen, having just returned from re-interviewing some of the students and staff at the Academy. He noticed the image of the professor frozen on the screen.

"Is that Henry Alleyn?" The tone of his question seemed like he had some further information.

Lisbon nodded. It was partly confirmation and partly questioning. She wanted to know what he had.

Rigsby pulled out his notepad. "I just spoke to one of the students at Brierley Hall, a .. er… Mandy Travis. She said that on the afternoon of the murder she overheard Scarletti arguing with Henry Alleyn in his study room."

Lisbon was intrigued. "Did she say what it was about?"

Rigsby shook his head. "She couldn't make out the words but remembers that it sounded quite heated and that Alleyn seemed to be really angry with the victim." He looked at the image on the computer screen again. "You think he could be the murderer?"

A 'maybe' appeared on Lisbon's face. "I _think_ that the Professor has some serious explaining to do," she said.

Henry Alleyn was seated behind a table in the interview room. He had been alternately wringing his hands, wiping them down the sides of his pants, and pulling at the cuffs of his jacket ever since the two agents had put him in there. There was a uniformed officer positioned just outside the door to stop him from going anywhere. He gave a start when the door opened and Cho walked in carrying a buff coloured file and a laptop.

He placed both on to the table then took the seat opposite the wary professor. He sat for a moment with his hands loosely clasped on top of the file in front of him. Alleyn looked fearfully back at him; his eyes drifted to the laptop and then down to the folder on the desk.

"Henry," said Cho, "You're an educated man, so you know why we're here." Henry swallowed and nodded his head in response. Cho continued, the intonation in his voice didn't alter. "So, save us all some time and confess to what you did."

Henry's eyes were on the file. "But I haven't done anything!" he protested.

Cho nodded slightly, "Okay." He flipped the file open. "July 2008. You were convicted of the misuse of chemicals…Inciting students to commit an act of terrorism." He shook his head from side to side, disparagingly.

"I did no such thing!" Alleyn was incredulous.

"Yes, you did. Says it right here," Cho looked at the file, then at the horrified scholar. He waited to see if the man would offer further insight into his actions. He pushed a bit further, "Small step from inciting others to committing an act yourself."

"I _didn't_ incite anyone! I allowed a few of my students to make a couple of fireworks. It was Independence Day, for God's sake! There was no terrorism involved." Henry was determined that Cho should know the truth. "It was an overreaction on the part of some of the parents. Apart from which, that was two years ago. All water under the bridge."

Cho remained sitting with his hands in front of him. He looked closely at his interviewee. "What were you arguing with Scarletti about on the afternoon of his murder?"

"What?" Alleyn asked, as if he didn't understand the question. The fingers of his right hand found the left cuff of his jacket.

"You were overheard arguing with the victim. What were you arguing about?" repeated Cho.

Alleyn looked as though he had been caught in headlights. "Overheard by whom?" he asked, stalling for time to think of a suitable response.

"Doesn't matter," said Cho, monotonously. He placed his hands on to the laptop and turned it so that Alleyn could see his own frozen image on the screen. Cho pressed play. They watched for a few minutes as the professor entered and exited the library. Cho pressed pause. He looked intensely at Henry. The man was fighting against panic. His nostrils had flared slightly and Cho could see that his chest was rising and falling more rapidly. "So tell me, after you killed him, where did you go?"

Alleyn was extremely perturbed and adamant. "I _didn't_ kill him! He was already dead when I got there!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"What were you doing in the library?" asked Cho.

"I went to collect a book that Mrs Halton-Travis was keeping for me," explained Alleyn. Horror was written all over his face.

Cho looked at the still image on the screen. "You're not carrying a book here. Why is that?"

"I was in shock, I suppose. I must have forgotten to pick it up. I had just discovered a dead body," exclaimed the Professor.

"Yes," agreed Cho. "So how is it that the body wasn't discovered until 7.30 the following morning? Why didn't you report it to someone? Call the police?" Throughout the whole interview, Cho's tone had remained rock steady.

Henry looked a bit flustered. He started to say, "I did – " but then stopped.

Cho instantly asked, "Who did you report it to?"

Henry took a deep breath and continued to allow his fingers to play with his cuff. "I was about to say I _didn't_ know what to do, I was in shock."

Cho didn't believe him, but he was getting the sense that the professor was going to stop talking any minute, and not give them anything further. He glanced over his shoulder towards the mirror and exhaled. He heard the door of the observation room next door, closed the file on the desk and picked it and the laptop back up. "Wait here," he ordered. Then he left the room. Henry sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

Lisbon was waiting for Cho in the bullpen. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know," answered her senior agent. "I can't get a read on him. We need Jane."

Lisbon sighed. That wasn't going to happen any time soon whilst the Professor was at CBI. "Let him go," she said. "We don't have anything solid connecting him to the victim, other than hearsay."

"What about the fact that he was in the library at the estimated time of death?" asked Van Pelt.

"Circumstantial," stated Lisbon. "He _could_ be telling the truth. Scarletti could have been dead already." She sighed again. "Release him. Maybe Jane can get something out of him at the Academy." She pulled out her cell phone and hit speed dial.

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**BRIERLEY HALL ACADEMY, Walnut Creek, CA**

Jane was just getting into the swing of his first study session when his phone began to vibrate in his vest pocket. He slipped it out and saw Lisbon's image on the display. Holding an outstretched index finger up to his class of eight students he uttered, "Errr…you'll have to excuse me for a second, I need to take this." He left them with instructions to continue reading through the text they had been looking at whilst he went over to the furthest corner of the room and flipped his phone open.

"Right in the middle of something here, Lisbon," he said quietly, whilst looking over at the students. He was aware that he was being observed by a couple of the female students, sitting at the front desks.

"Yeah, yeah," answered Lisbon, not particularly caring. She explained to him their findings about Professor Alleyn and told him that they were releasing him.

"Good," said Jane.

"Good?" repeated Lisbon.

"Yes…He didn't do it," was Jane's matter-of-fact reply.

"What?"

"He doesn't have the temperament to murder anyone; far too anxious."

"But you said he was definitely hiding something," reminded Lisbon.

"Yes. He is…just _not_ murder," reiterated Jane.

At that moment, one of the female students shouted out, "Professor Jane? I have a question…"

Jane held up his finger again to signal that he wouldn't be long. Into his phone, he said, "I have to go…got minds to expand with my knowledge and wisdom."

"Yeah, right," scoffed Lisbon. "Well, that's all for now – see what you can get out of Alleyn, … _Professor Jane_." She mimicked the female student. Jane could hear the grin in her voice. He flipped his phone shut, placed it back into his vest pocket and walked back over to stand in between the two desks at the front of the room, which housed the two female students who had been watching him. He looked at the one who had shouted out.

"Yes, Jenny. You had a question?"

The teenage girl smiled broadly. She glanced at the other female and asked, "Was that your wife?"

Jane's welcoming smile began to peter out. "Err, no. Not my wife."

The girl looked at Jane's wedding band and smirked, cheekily raising her groomed eyebrows. "Your _girlfriend_, then?"

Jane was feeling a little bit uncomfortable with this line of questioning, especially since the girl was constantly fluttering her eyelids and allowing her tongue to drift occasionally across her lips whenever she looked at him. He took a step away from Jenny's desk. "Err, no." He looked up at the other students. "So, what was the motive behind Jefferson Hope's murderous activities?" he asked.

Jenny was the first to offer an answer. "That would be _love_," she stated, with a large degree of emphasis on the last word. "He wanted revenge for the murder of the woman who should have been his bride." Her eyes ran up and down Jane as he stood at the front of the room. He took a deep, uncomfortable breath, and trying not to make eye contact with her, praised her for coming to the correct conclusion. It was at that moment that a very brief bell was heard to signal the end of the session. Jane released a breath.

All of the students closed their books and began to head for the door. Jenny slid seductively from her seat and sashayed towards Jane. He managed, somehow, to get behind his desk before she reached him.

"See you next class, Professor Jane," she breathed. Jane looked up from the papers he had begun to shuffle and collect. His reply was brief, "Bye, Jenny." And he returned his eyes to the desk waiting for her to leave. After she had gone, he allowed himself to exhale deeply and rolled his eyes, as if he had just had a lucky escape. A slight creak made him look up. The other female student was just leaving her desk. She had a pile of books tucked under one of her arms and a bag on her back.

Timidly she said, "Don't mind Jenny, Professor Jane. She flirts with everyone."

Jane shrugged nonchalantly and gave a smile. "You're Mandy, right?" he asked, recognising her as the girl who had been trying to comfort the librarian on the morning the body had been discovered.

The girl blushed slightly and nodded. She was quite a bookish looking girl. Quietly she asked, "Do you think he was right to do what he did?"

"Who?" asked Jane.

"Jefferson Hope."

Jane took in a deep breath. He looked attentively at the young girl in front of him. But before he could respond to her question, she continued.

"I think it was brave of him," she stated.

"Oh? How so?" inquired Jane.

"Well, he obviously really loved Lucy Ferrier. I think that's important. He was extremely loyal to her. Fidelity is especially important, don't you think?" Her eyes seemed to drift a little.

Jane wasn't sure how to answer. He knew he should offer some words of wisdom, but she also had a point. He cleared his throat to speak.

Her thoughts returned to the present at the sound of his voice, and as the strap of her bag started to slip off her shoulder. She reached up to secure it back into place. As she did so, Jane noticed that the thumbs and forefingers of each of her hands were slightly red and irritated. She noticed him looking and quickly tried to hide them. She shrugged, "Eczema," she said, even though he hadn't asked. Jane just nodded, understandingly.

"Well, I have to get to photography class," she said. "Bye."

Jane nodded a farewell, "Bye, Mandy." He watched her leave, then collected his own things.

As he left the room and entered the corridor, he was greeted by the Dean.

"Ah, Professor Jane. How's it going? Students not giving you too much trouble, are they?" he enquired.

"Not at all, Dean Gibbons," replied Jane, again mimicking the Dean's way of speaking.

"How were Nathan and Justin? I know they can be a bit of a handful at times. Professor Scarletti had several run-ins with each of them as I recall."

Jane gave a wavy hand gesture. "Well, I have to admit, they _were_ a little bit, shall we say, '_reluctant_' at first, but I had a little chat with them in private and they seemed to knuckle down quite quickly," reported Jane.

"Really? Well…that's good, I was beginning to think we might have to go down the expulsion route, especially with that boy Danvers."

"I don't think that will be necessary from now on, Dean. I think you'll find that they appreciate the opportunities Brierley Hall is giving them," said Jane.

"Well, that remains to be seen. So glad you're settling in. But if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to Henry about another matter."

"Oh, of course," responded Jane. Just as the Dean began to walk away, he added, "Oh, Dean Gibbons?"

Gibbons stopped and turned, "Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind, and I know I didn't know the man, but I would like to attend the Memorial Service for Professor Scarletti tomorrow morning. Would that be okay? I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense, my dear fellow. Of course, you would be more than welcome."

Jane nodded his thanks and the Dean moved away down the corridor. Jane watched for a few seconds and then turned to go in the opposite direction. Just as he was about to take a step forwards, he caught a glimpse of Jenny lurking at the corner of an off-shooting corridor. Deliberately, he turned around and headed in the same direction as the Dean. It would take him slightly longer, but he could still get to the man's office that way.

Jane had just moved away from the Dean's desk, after closing the top drawer, when a troubled-looking Horace Gibbons walked through the door. The older man was a little surprised to find someone in his office.

"Professor Jane?"

"Ah, Dean Gibbons. I was just about to leave you a note," said Jane, quickly. "I forgot to ask….what time will the Memorial Service be starting tomorrow? I did read the notice, but I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be these days."

The Dean relaxed a little. "Oh….er…ten o'clock, I believe."

Jane thanked him, and made his way to the door. Before leaving he asked, "Was Professor Scarletti popular? I mean, will there be many there, do you think?"

It seemed an odd question but the Dean answered it. "He was well enough liked by students and staff alike. I believe his class will be there, as well as members of staff, and I understand the CBI agents have requested that they be in attendance too, though I'm not sure why."

Jane wrinkled his nose at the last part, "Standard procedure, I expect. Although, these police officers like to poke their noses into everybody's business, don't they?" Jokingly, he added, "Good thing _we're_ not hiding anything, isn't it?"

The Dean's smile was tight-lipped, "Yes, hmmm, quite." He looked at his desk and the papers on it. "If you don't mind, Professor Jane…I have quite a bit of work to be getting on with."

"Oh, yes, I expect you do. I'll leave you to it. See you in the morning." And with that Jane left. As he headed back to his own room, he pulled out his phone.

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**BRIERLEY HALL LIBRARY, Walnut Creek, CA - Saturday 10 am**

In all, there was quite a small congregation in the library for the Memorial Service. Dean Gibbons had correctly surmised the main contingent of the group that had gathered to pay their respects to the murdered professor, with the addition of one or two other staff members.

Jane stood in the doorway as Lisbon and the team arrived. Dean Gibbons reintroduced them to him and wandered off to speak to Professor Wiggins, who would be acting as master of ceremonies. He had been the obvious choice as he and Scarletti had been particularly close friends.

Surreptitiously, Lisbon handed over a candle to Jane.

"What do you want this for?" she asked, quietly.

"Uh, it's a memorial service," he answered, as if it was obvious. "You light candles."

"Yes, but why did it have to be scented?" she asked, a little annoyed at his condescending tone.

Jane rolled his eyes. "Makes the place smell nice?"

They stopped speaking as Professor Wiggins stood beside his late colleague's favourite chair and began his eulogy. This went on for several minutes, during which time Jane was able to observe many of the gathering.

He noted the presence of Julie Halton-Travis and Mandy, who were standing by Julie's desk. Nearby, Henry Alleyn was standing next to Dean Gibbons, and was looking particularly uncomfortable, especially at the sight of the CBI's finest. Even Justin Danvers was there, dressed, unusually for him, in a shirt and tie, looking very respectable indeed. Jane smiled secretively to himself. Lisbon glanced at him and noticed his enigmatic expression. When he caught her looking, he straightened his mouth to look serious again.

Across to the left, Jenny was watching Jane, rather than listening to the eulogy. Jane glanced briefly at her, and then just as quickly, looked back at the Professor, whose voice was beginning to break with emotion. Dean Gibbons quickly stepped in.

"Er, no doubt many of you have your own memories of Professor Scarletti. Needless to say, he was one of the best Professors we have had here at Brierley Hall. He shall be sadly missed." He paused. "Now…is there anyone else who would like to say a few words?"

Jane stepped forward, slightly hesitantly. "Err…I would…if I may?"

Dean Gibbons looked perplexed. He wasn't alone. Lisbon's brow creased with a mixture of confusion and a little bit of fear. What was he up to now? She took a deep breath; mostly to increase the oxygen levels to her brain so that she would be able to come up with some justifiable explanations for God-knows whatever inexcusable thing Jane was about to do.

Jane stood next to the favoured wing-backed chair. In his hand he held the candle Lisbon had brought with her. He cleared his throat.

"First of all, let me just…" He leaned over to one of the already burning candles and lit the wick of his own. There was no space on the small table next to the chair so he stepped over towards Julie and Mandy and placed it on the desk at the side of them. As he stepped back into his original position, he noted the expression on each of their faces.

"Right…um…I expect most of you are wondering why I'm speaking out today when I never met the man we are all here to remember." There were a few nods around the room. Jane nodded too. "Some of you know that I was brought in to take the Professor's classes….Well, I'm not really his replacement. Nope, not a Professor at all. In fact, I never even _went_ to High School." He shrugged his mouth as if it was just a minor oversight. There were a few gasps around the room. Dean Gibbons' mouth was agape. Jane continued.

"No…. I am, in fact, a '_consultant_' for the CBI and I was '_undercover_' to investigate a murder. And I can tell you that we are here today to reveal the killer of Gino Scarletti," he announced, dramatically. His eyes travelled from person to person. "A killer who is in this very room, as I speak…" Heads and eyes darted around the room, as each person looked to see if they could locate the murderer. Lisbon's incredulous glance landed on Rigsby and Cho. At her side, Van Pelt's eyes were wide with bewilderment.

On the side of the room, now to Jane's left, Justin Danvers was shifting from foot to foot and trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He seemed to be trying to make himself appear invisible.

Next to him, Henry Alleyn gulped and swallowed hard. He began his hand-wringing routine. How could he not? He knew the CBI agents had been trying to pin this on him. He looked towards the Dean, who was standing close by. Their eyes met. Gibbons gave a micro-shake of his head and then looked back at Jane.

Turning his attention to the highest ranking member of staff, Jane exclaimed, "Dean Gibbons…" All eyes turned to the erudite-looking man in black robes. "You claim to have liked Professor Scarletti when, in fact, you had nothing but contempt for the man, especially since you discovered the fact that he was aware of your '_little secret'_.

The Dean looked aghast. "That's a lie!" he protested. "I don't have any _secrets_! I've no idea what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do. Doesn't he, Professor Alleyn?" Jane turned his gaze on the anxiety-ridden fellow.

"I…er…" No other words would come out of the frazzled-looking professor's mouth. He squeezed his hands together to the point of cutting off the blood supply to his fingers. He looked frantically at the Dean, whose eyes were like saucers; and whose cheeks had turned crimson.

"You know? Your '_little secret!'_" Jane was trying to push him into spilling the beans, but he could see he would have to reveal it himself. From out of his pocket, Jane produced a small red book. Both the Dean and Alleyn looked as though they were going to pass out at any second.

Lisbon had absolutely no idea what was going on anymore. Her lips were parted, as confusion covered her face.

"When I first arrived, you and Professor Alleyn here were having a heated conversation in your office. I overheard the whole thing…it was difficult_ not to._ Then, when you took me to Scarletti's room, you told me that he was a man who made 'copious notes about everything'. That got me thinking, so I looked through his belongings, which you confessed to putting into the cardboard carton. Stood to reason the man would keep some sort of a journal. And he did. There were several of them amongst the items in the box; each of them numbered. Only _one of them_ was missing." Jane's face displayed a '_don't you know!'_ expression. He continued. "Scarletti discovered that you and Professor Alleyn were having an illicit affair, didn't he?…" There was a pause as whispers and gasps filled the room. Professor Alleyn slumped against the bookshelf behind him.

The Dean tried desperately to claw back some kind of order and respect. "Total and utter nonsense! I don't know what you are trying to achieve here _Mr_ Jane, but I won't allow you to sully my good name in my own Academy. I respectfully ask that you leave right now!" he demanded.

Jane ignored the request. His eyes were wild with his revelations. "Of course you were having an affair! You refer to everyone here by their title….except for Professor Alleyn. You always refer to him by his first name, as he refers to you by yours." Some of the other staff were beginning to nod their heads as they realised Jane's observation was correct.

"'_Henry_' confronted Scarletti about it on the afternoon of his murder. That's what they were arguing about when they were overheard. Scarletti recorded his 'discovery' in his journal. You suspected as much. You and Henry realised the police would probably go through his belongings, find the diary, and learn of your relationship, so_ you_ went through his belongings and stole the relevant notebook. I found _this_..." He held up the red book, "… in the top drawer of your desk."

Dean Gibbons was almost apoplectic. "And for this I suppose you think I _killed_ him?" he shouted. Jane shrugged.

"It's motive," he replied. Rigsby reached for his handcuffs, but before he could take a step, Jane said, "But I know you didn't do it." Rigsby frowned at Lisbon. She rolled her eyes. She so wished Jane would get to the point and stop being so dramatic.

"No. _You_ didn't kill him…nor did 'Henry'." Alleyn slumped a bit further – this time through relief. "The motive for killing Gino Scarletti was far more personal than that." His eyes wandered around the room, and alighted on Julie Halton-Travis.

"Ms Halton-Travis? You had feelings for the victim, yes?" he asked.

The librarian was taken aback. She wasn't expecting to be brought to the group's attention. She looked around like a startled animal caught in headlights. "Er…no, not really," she denied. Mandy, who was standing next to her, snorted a little.

"Come, come, Julie….you gave yourself away. Much like the Dean here, you always referred to everyone by their title, _except_ Professor Scarletti, whom you called 'Gino'. You also admitted that there were some staff who 'had the eye' for him, yourself included, yes?"

Julie was flustered. Her cheeks flushed. She shook her head, but didn't look Jane in the eye. He took a step towards her.

"You recently separated from your husband due to your infidelity with the victim," declared Jane. When he noticed her questioning look as to how he could possibly know that, he simply said, "You have a small tan line where your wedding ring used to be…and forensics found _this_ beneath the victim's chair…" He held up a small plastic bag, containing a wedding ring.

Upon production of the ring, the fingers of Julie's right hand immediately moved to her ring finger. She gasped. "I…I…misplaced it several days ago. I have no idea how it got there." She tried to explain.

Lisbon's bewilderment was heightening. Forensics had found no such evidence. It was then that she noticed Jane wasn't wearing his own wedding ring, and she began to realise what he was doing.

Jane looked closely in Julie's direction. But it wasn't _her_ reaction that interested him. It was Mandy's, next to her. She looked like she was desperately trying to remember where something was.

"Mandy, Mandy, Mandy…your surname is Travis, right? You're related to Julie. She's your Step-mother, yes?"

Mandy nodded.

Jane's tone became more gentle. "You pretend to like her and get along with her, but secretly you don't really like her, do you?" Mandy looked at him and shook her head slowly. "And the reason that you don't like her is because you found out about her affair with Professor Scarletti. She was unfaithful to your father, and you didn't like that one bit. After all, fidelity is '_especially important'_." He repeated her words back to her from their conversation the day before. Softly, he said, "It was you. You poisoned the Professor. You deemed him responsible for the anguish your father was suffering and you wanted to get back at your Step-mother."

Tears began to form in the young girl's eyes. Her bottom lip started to tremble as she nodded at Jane again. Julie stared at her step-daughter in horrified disbelief. Whispers began around the room again. This time Lisbon nodded a gesture to Rigsby that he should make the arrest. He walked over to the teenage girl.

"Mandy Travis. You are under arrest for the murder of Gino Scarletti. You have the right to remain silent..." He finished reading her her rights and placed his hand around one of her wrists. He didn't see a need for handcuffs. Van Pelt joined them, on the other side of the girl, and together they walked her out to the car.

The small crowd began to dissipate. All that remained were Jane, Lisbon, and the two broken figures of Professor Alleyn and Dean Gibbons. Jane cleared his throat and rocked on the balls of his feet. He apologised to the two men for possibly ruining both of their careers, and destroying their reputations in front of the whole Academy.

The Dean, having calmed down considerably, seemed quite philosophical about it. "I suppose, in a way, it's a bit of a relief. You have no idea how difficult it is keeping things secret."

Jane's eyebrows rose slightly and he nodded his head backwards and to one side, as if he understood completely about keeping secrets. Lisbon shot him a distrustful look. He changed his expression quickly, and tried to replace it with one a little more innocent.

She outstretched a hand. "Sorry for all the subterfuge," she apologised.

"No, no. Don't worry. The important thing is you caught the killer."

"Yes, we did," agreed Lisbon. Jane nodded and mouthed '_we did'_ and rose up and down again on his toes. He was standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

Dean Gibbons looked at the consultant. "You, good sir, are a student of human nature… and an excellent one at that, might I say."

Jane beamed and bridled a little at the compliment, whilst simultaneously trying to remain modest. Lisbon rolled her eyes at the display. She could have sworn his chest had puffed out a little bit more.

"Oh, _yeah_…" she said sardonically. "That's just one of his _many_ 'little peculiarities'."

Jane frowned slightly. He wasn't completely convinced she was complimenting him. He held out a hand to the robed man. "Well, Dean...For what it's worth, it was a pleasure working with you. I rather enjoyed being a Professor for a short while."

"Likewise, Mr Jane, likewise. You were very good at it. I still have no idea how you managed to tame the likes of Danvers and Johnson. You must let me in on _your_ 'little secret' one day." He smiled, despite the fact that Jane had just made a mockery out of him. "If you ever get fed up with all of this 'detective work', please give us a call. We would dearly like to take you on as a Professor."

Lisbon was getting bored with the sycophancy. She interrupted the Dean part-way through his next sentence.

"I mean, it Mr Jane. You have been a great ass - "

"Well, we gotta go, now," she said, ushering Jane towards the door. "Paperwork to do." She wrinkled her nose as she explained.

"Oh yes, of course." The Dean held out his hand once more to show there were no hard feelings.

Jane was quite enjoying the Dean's little speech and was a little put out that Lisbon had interrupted the flow of compliments. Still, he said goodbye and they left.

As they walked down the steps of the Academy one last time, Jane said, "I thought it was nice of the Dean to make that offer…" But Lisbon wasn't really that interested.

"Yeah…" She sounded like her thoughts were elsewhere. Then suddenly she remembered something. "That thing Gibbons said about you 'taming Danvers and Johnson'? What did he mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing," shrugged Jane. Lisbon stared so hard at him that he felt obliged to give some kind of an explanation. "_Okay_. They were just causing a little bit of trouble so I had a gentle word with them, that's all."

"A _gentle word_?" repeated Lisbon. Jane nodded. But she knew him too well. "You _hypnotised_ them, didn't you?"

Jane squirmed a little. "_Well_…I would say it was more like reminding them of a time when they were a little more amenable and respectful towards figures in roles of authority."

Lisbon looked at him. "You hypnotised them," she repeated.

Jane couldn't hold back his smile. "Okay. Yes, I did…but it was for their own good," he admitted. Lisbon shook her head and sighed. The man just couldn't help himself.

Jane steered the conversation back to the Dean's words of praise. "But still...The Dean _was_ very complimentary. Sometimes it's nice to hear kind words." He looked at her to see if she was hearing him. "You know? _Kind words_?" he repeated. He looked at her blank expression, then turned his gaze forwards. "Wouldn't hurt _you_ to say a few nice things about _me_ now and again," he said, almost sulkily.

Lisbon stopped. "Oh, you mean _compliment_ you? Like the Dean did?" she acknowledged.

"Exactly," said Jane with a confirming nod of his head, as he stopped and turned to face her.

Lisbon shrugged her mouth in agreement and nodded slightly. She started to walk again. "Okay, yeah," she conceded. There was a hint of mischief in her eyes. She paused for a second then added, "There _was_ something the Dean said that I agree with."

Falling into step alongside her, Jane smiled. "Yeah?" Lisbon could see he was lapping it up.

"Which part?" he asked eagerly.

"The last part…"

Jane frowned as he tried to remember.

"Yeah, you know…when he said you've been a great ass!" She smirked.

Jane's eager expression turned to irritated hurt. "That's just not funny." He displayed his best wounded expression then stormed off towards the car, like a toddler who hadn't got his own way.

"What?" Lisbon held her hands up questioningly, then smiled audaciously and followed him to the car.

CBICBICBICBICBI

**CBI HQ, Sacramento, CA – Monday morning**

"I still don't get how you figured it out. I mean all that other stuff – the affairs and all," said Rigsby. He was looking over at Jane, who was back in his usual position of sitting on the leather couch in the bullpen. His left leg was crossed over his right as he reclined against the back cushion. He held a saucer in one hand and slurped tea from his cup.

Jane took a breath. "When I first arrived at the crime scene, I noticed that Professor Alleyn seemed to be furtive about something connected to Dean Gibbons; and Julie Halton-Travis seemed to be unusually upset over the loss of a colleague - more than an average person would be, that is. She was being comforted by Mandy who was also upset. I didn't realise then why she was so distressed, but it makes sense now. She was crying with guilt and anger about her Step-mother's betrayal. It was clear from her body language that she didn't seem to like the woman, but somehow felt an obligation to comfort her."

"So when did you figure out that it_ was_ Mandy?" asked Van Pelt.

"Oh, I had an idea fairly early on…which was confirmed in study class on Friday. She spoke to me about a character in a story we had read – a character who had killed in revenge for a lost love. She spoke ardently about loyalty and fidelity. Add that to the fact that she had irritation to the skin on her fingers, which can be caused by contact with cyanide; _and_ she was a student of photography so had access to potassium ferrocyanide in the dark rooms of the photography studios…" With both hands and a small shrug, Jane gestured that it was the only conclusion to be made.

Something was still troubling Van Pelt. There was a tiny frown on her brow. "Yeah, all that I get…but what was all that about the wedding ring? And why did you ask for a scented candle?"

"Ah ha, well, Mandy had taken her Step-mother's wedding ring as a punishment and hidden it somewhere, I have no idea where. When I produced _my_ ring, her face gave her away as she panicked about where she had put the stolen ring and how I had gotten hold of it. As for the candle – it was almond scented; the same aroma given off by cyanide when mixed with liquid. Mandy's sense of smell sent fear messages to her eyes when she smelled the candle that I placed at her side."

It was all falling into place, but Rigsby needed a little more clarification. "Okay… poisoning is a woman's crime, mostly. That fits…. How did she get it into his glass without anyone noticing? And more to the point, how did she know that he wouldn't take a drink while she was still there and keel over in front of her?"

"Well, she _couldn't_ have known that. It was a risk she was willing to take. Who would have suspected her anyway? A timid, little thing – more interested in books than people; the model student.

When I spoke with Justin Danvers…he said that whilst he was watching Scarletti with the intention of intimidating him, he saw Mandy go past. When she reached the Professor's chair, she dropped her books and began scrabbling around to collect them again. When she stood up, the side table was blocked from Danvers' view. It looked like Mandy was struggling to keep her bag on her back when all the while, she was emptying the contents of the capsule into Scarletti's drink. When her bag slipped the final time, the capsule was knocked from her hand and ended up under the chair, where it was found by the coroner." Jane held up his hands as if he had just successfully completed a magic trick, then quickly folded his arms.

Lisbon, who had wandered in towards the end of Jane's explanations, rolled her eyes at the fact that he was holding court. She held up a piece of paper.

"We just got a call from the AG's office. SFPD found a woman's body outside of Oakland. Governor asked specifically for CBI. Not sure why yet. The lead detective is supposed to be giving me a call with further details. So… chop, chop people, we got a long drive." She stood as her team sprang into action, collecting weapons from drawers and jackets from the backs of chairs. With keys in her hand and heading for the doorway behind Van Pelt's desk, she noticed that Jane hadn't moved.

"You coming?" she asked.

Jane put on a whiny weary face. "Nah, I'm too tired. All this undercover work is exhausting." He stretched and yawned melodramatically. "Think I'll stay here and take a nap. You guys can do this one without me."

Lisbon pouted slightly and rolled her eyes at the pitiable act. "Suit yourself!" She stomped off to join the others.

Jane smirked as he watched her go, then lay down on the couch with his head resting on the arm. He yawned again, wet his lips with his tongue and shifted on to his left side. He had just got comfortable when his phone began vibrating. It was Lisbon.

"What? I'm sleeping!" responded Jane, and he yawned again to emphasise. Suddenly, he sat up. "And the toe nails? Did they check them?" he asked, listening intently to the reply. "I'm on my way," he said simply, flipping his phone shut. He stood up, grabbed his jacket and headed swiftly for the exit.

PLEASE REVIEW – Bruno liked it, but do you?


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